


Skin Hungry

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Skin Hungry [1]
Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Affection, Anxiety, Desperation, First Date, First Time, Intercrural Sex, Loneliness, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Rimming, Shower Sex, Uncircumcised Penis, fleshlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 09:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10331708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Mark's been kinda lonely. Jack just moved in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely Rem! I hope you enjoy it, darling!

“Thank you so much for picking me up from the airport,” said Jack, sitting on Mark’s couch and covering his face with both hands. “I can’t believe they lost my luggage.” 

“Sometimes this shit just happens,” said Mark. He was sitting next to Jack, close enough that their knees were almost touching.

… fuck, Mark was even more lonely than he thought he was, if he was craving that kind of human warmth to that degree. 

“Still. Bad first day in the country.” 

“This is hardly the country,” Mark said. “We’re in the burbs, man.”

Jack snorted, and shoved Mark in the side. 

Mark shoved him back. 

“Look at it this way,” said Mark, stretching out and yawning. “You got your shitty day over with, so now things can only look up.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a healthy way of looking at it, but I’m too fuckin’ tired ot debate philosophical shit,” said Jack. He was grinning, his glasses shoved up over his head and his eyes sleepy. “How about we order some pizza and watch a stupid movie?”

“I am very much pro that plan,” said Mark. 

“Are we about to ruin our friendship over pizza toppings?” Jack looked over at Mark, and his eyelashes cast shadows across his cheeks. 

Fuck, he was pretty. 

And now was not the time to focus on that. 

Mark cleared his throat. 

“I’m a go along to get along kinda guy,” said Mark, “as long as there is no pineapple.”

“I can live with that,” said Jack, grabbing Mark’s laptop off of the couch and passing it to Mark. “Order up.” 

"Why am I ordering the pizza?" Mark put his feet up on the table, and Jack imitated him, so that their thighs were pressed up against each other. 

He was so... _warm_ , and that couldn't be a thing that normal people thought about, sitting next to their friends.

Admittedly, most people weren't quite so... touch starved, but that was neither here nor there.

So he cleared his throat and kept the laptop in his lap, to hide his burgeoning hard on. 

"Well," said Jack, "for one thing, I don't know where any of the pizza places are around here." He smiled at Mark, a little nervous. "I'll cook for you tomorrow, if you'll take me out to get groceries."

"Sounds like a good deal," Mark agreed. 

Jack was... Jack was easy, lazy, almost indolent. He leg was right up against Mark's, his hip pressed into Mark's, and his arm was thrown across the back of the couch, almost holding Mark. 

So Mark kept his laptop in his lap as he ordered pizza, and kept it open, with the pretense that he was going to show Jack a "truly amazing" YouTube video. 

By the time the pizza had come, his hard on had gone down, and he could act like a normal human being again. 

Hopefully Jack hadn't noticed the change. 

* * * 

"I'm fuckin' bushed," Jack said, and he stretched and yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Fuck... I'm gonna head to bed, if that's okay?"

"'course it's okay," said Mark. "What, you think I'd just keep you up late to entertain me?"

"Totally," said Jack. "Chain me up in the basement, make me dress in one of those harem girl outfits from the Chipmunk Adventure -"

"Wait a minute, the Chipmunk Adventure? The fuck are you talking about?"

"You remember the movie? With the hot air balloons?" 

Mark looked at him blankly. 

"You're fuckin' uncultured," Jack said, his tone accusing. Then he paused, and he blushed. "I hate to do this, but, uh, could I borrow a pair of pajamas, maybe? I've been known to sleepwalk, and I don't think it'd be fair to you if I slept naked, and my current clothes... I feel like I still smell like airplane."

"You do," Mark said. 

"Well," said Jack, "to spare you the sight of my goolies a'danglin' in the breeze, could I get some pajamas?"

"Yeah, sure," said Mark, and he laughed, a bit awkward, and stood up, pulling his shirt up over his lap in an attempt to hide the beginnings of his erection. 

... the idea of a naked Jack wandering around wasn't exactly... a thing he was against. 

He'd come to grips recently with the fact that he liked guys - in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't exactly a big deal. 

It still left him a bit stuck. 

So now there were twice as many people to reject him, should he proposition them. 

Oh well. 

He knew, logically, that most of it was in his head. That he was a relatively attractive guy, and if he put himself out there, he'd probably find someone of some gender or another. 

It was the getting there that was the problem. 

"Dude?" Jack snapped his fingers in front of Mark's face. "I think I'm not the only one who needs to sleep, man! You just completely zoned out!"

"Sorry about that," said Mark, and he grinned sheepishly. "Been a long day for both of us."

"You got to wake up in your own bed," Jack said, following Mark as he made his way towards his bedroom. 

"Well, we're _both_ getting to sleep in our own beds, so that's a win, right?" 

Jack made a choked off noise, and Mark turned around, alarmed. 

"Um... are you okay?" 

"Yeah." Jack cleared his throat, and he looked... almost misty eyed. "I really appreciate you letting me live with you."

"Don't worry about it," Mark said. "It gets lonely here by myself, you know?" 

Wait. Shit. Did that sound too needy? 

Shit shit shit. 

"I understand," said Jack, and he unexpectedly wrapped Mark up in a big hug. 

It was a tight one, his arms around Mark's shoulders, and Mark froze up like a pole, before he cautiously put his arms around Jack's waist. 

"Thank you so much," Jack said into Mark's neck, and his hair was soft and slightly greasy against Mark's face. 

"It's all good," Mark said, and he patted Jack on the back, savoring the warmth of another body so close to his own. 

Jack was bony, but he was still strong, and Mark could feel the muscle under his hands, faintly. 

He let go, and resisted the urge to kiss Jack on the cheek, like he would with his mom. 

"So, uh, pajamas?" Jack was swaying on his feet, clearly exhausted. 

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." Mark grabbed a pair from his dresser at random and shoved them at Jack. "There's an extra toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, it's the new looking one, with the green handle." 

"Not everything about me has to be green," Jack mumbled, shuffling towards his bedroom. 

"Night," Mark said. 

"Night," Jack said. 

Chica came padding in, her collar jingling, and she hopped up onto the bed. 

Mark sighed, left the door mostly closed, and got undressed, leaving him in his own pajama pants, shirtless. 

... shit, he hadn't given Jack a shirt. 

Well, it wasn't like he had any boobs to worry about, right? 

Although now his brain was supplying him with that imagery, which... wow. 

Mark groaned like he was dying, and covered his face with both hands, before going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

* * *

Mark lay in bed, flat on his back, and he stared at the ceiling. Chica was curled up on the floor, occasionally making little sleep noises, and the rest of the house was absolutely silent. 

"... I gotta know about that stupid Chipmunk movie," Mark grumbled to himself, grabbing his phone and tying the movie into google. 

He got... well, some odd pictures. 

It wasn't until he scrolled down a bit that he came upon what he suspected Jack had been talking about. 

There were the characters, in lacy little “harem” outfits, like something out of an old cartoon. 

It _was_ an old cartoon, really. 

But when he closed his eyes, he could see Jack in that outfit, doing some kind of exotic belly dance, and that… 

His cock jerked against his belly. 

Welp. 

At least one part of his anatomy had plans for the evening's activities. 

With a sigh, Mark wrapped his hand around his cock, beginning to stroke it, squeezing the head, his fingers around the shaft. 

Mark sighed, moaning quietly, his eyes shut tightly. 

In his head, Jack wore that... stupid little harem outfit. Except no, that was kinda creepy, kinda racist. 

Also, it felt... weird, jerking off to Jack, when he was just a few walls apart. 

So he ran through his friends, through the people who he ran into in his day to day.

Bob, Suzy, that cute bank teller, Wade, the girl who sometimes waited tables at that one diner, Ross, Jack, Arin, Jack, his high school algebra teacher, Jack....

Jack kept showing up, in short skirts, in loose jeans, on his knees, bending over, his legs spread, his mouth open....

Mark sighed, and he settled on one image - Jack, flat on his back, his legs wide open, jerking his own cock. 

"Y'like what ya see?" Jack drawled, in Mark's head, and he rolled onto his belly, up on his knees, displaying his ass. "You just wanna sink it in, don't ya?"

Mark gasped, moaned, and he began to full on fuck his fist, imagining it was Jack's ass - then Jack was in his lap, grabbing his cock, jerking their cocks together. 

He came across his belly with a gasp and a moan, almost all the way to his nipples. 

"Fuck," Mark mumbled and then he groaned again, because he realized that the door was cracked open. 

Oh god. 

Hopefully Jack hadn't heard any of that. 

With a sigh, Mark grabbed for a tissue, wiping his belly off and tossing the tissue into the trash. 

He snuggled down into the bed, one hand down towards Chica. 

He hoped Jack was having good dreams. 

That was his last thought before he fell asleep. 

* * * 

The next few weeks went by... easily.

Mostly. 

Mark's crush got worse. 

He tried to rationalize it - he had been very lonely, he missed physical contact, and he just missed... company. 

Jack was a very affectionate guy - he leaned, he practically snuggled, he shared his food, he poked and prodded and tickled. 

Mark was no longer fighting the urge to cling to Jack at the first brush of human warmth, and he was generally... relaxing, in ways he hadn't even realized he was tensed up.

The harder bit was remembering what it was like to live with someone else.

He almost got caught masturbating three times - Jack had a habit of galloping into rooms when he had an idea or something to say. 

Mark got back into the habit of actually _closing_ doors, although Chica complained. 

He walked in on Jack naked a few times, because he wasn't used to there being another person in the bathroom, and what were the chances of both of them having to pee at the same time at three in the morning? 

(Pretty high, it turned out, and Jack was _not_ in the habit of turning the lights on when he went to pee late at night). 

But it was all... it was nice. 

It was comfortable. 

The crush was growing and growing, and Mark knew, logically, he'd have to do something about it soon - pining is not a healthy way of dealing with feelings - it creates an obligation in even the best of hearts. 

So he steered himself to tell Jack, after that first week together. 

And then he put it off. And put it off. 

There was just so much stuff they needed to do!

Jack's stuff came in, and that needed arranging, fitting in with Mark's stuff. They had to shop, they had to set up a studio for Jack....

Until it had been a month and a half, and he was practically drawing little hearts in his metaphorical diary. 

But it all came to a head one night. 

* * * 

"Just for a heads up man," said Jack, over dinner, "I sometimes sleepwalk."

"Yeah?" Mark tried to grab more spaghetti on his plate, dropping half of it back. 

Stupid pasta. 

"Yeah, just for a heads up. If you see me, like, wandering around at a weird hour of the night," said Jack. "Just don't wake me up - things tend to get weird."

"What kind of weird?" 

"Well, I once punched my brother in the face."

"As if you'd do any damage," Mark scoffed. Almost timidly, he poked Jack in the arm. 

Jack snorted, and made a muscle, flexing. 

"I'm totally a badass," said Jack. "I'd knock you out in one hit!"

Mark didn't doubt it - just for... different reasons. 

If Jack ever kissed him, he'd pass out. 

Although that wouldn't be like a hit, exactly. 

"You okay in there?" Jack tapped Mark in the middle of the forehead. 

"Is kissing like hitting someone with your mouth?" Mark burst out.

Shit. _Shit_. 

Jack raised an eyebrow, but he was looking... contemplative.

"I'm not sure," he said. "I mean, hitting always implies that you're going really fast, right? Like, if you ran into someone and you hit them with your mouth as you ran, it might count?"

"But that's not kissing. Kissing is, like, the... movement, right? Or the noise?" How were they having this conversation? 

Why was Mark's heart beating so fast?

"Well," Jack said, and he laughed, "if that were true, then I've kissed a lot more dudes than I thought I had!" 

Mark choked on his spaghetti, doubling over and coughing, thumping himself on the chest.

"Dude! Don't die!" Jack grabbed at Mark's arms, forcing them over his head, then slapping him on the back.

Mark spat out his spaghetti, still wheezing, and he took a slug of water. 

"You've kissed dudes?" He managed to get out. 

"Yeah," said Jack, and he looked slightly offended. "Why is that such a shocking revelation?"

"Well, I mean, you've mentioned talking about not being gay -" 

"Not being gay doesn't mean being straight," Jack said, and yeah, he was definitely annoyed now. 

"Well, okay, yeah, no, I get that," Mark said quickly. He was itching to tell Jack about his own newly discovered bisexuality, but this... probably wasn't the time. "Just, uh... wasn't expecting it. That's all." He gave a nervous lap. "How many dudes have you run face first into, anyway?"

"I'm the youngest of five," Jack pointed out, and now he was grinning. "We got up to some weird shit."

"But did you, like... it doesn't count with your family. I mean, I assume it wasn't, like... you know, full on... making out," said Mark. "I've kissed my brother. That doesn't mean that I've kissed any guys."

"That was the joke, dumbass," Jack said, and he snorted. 

"So... you've kissed guys? Not in the running face first into them, I mean, but actual kissing."

"Yeah," Jack said, and he cleared his throat. "So, uh, what games are you planning on working on for tomorrow?"

Mark could spot a subject change when he saw one, and he grabbed at it with both hands. 

"Well," he said, "I was thinking...." 

* * *

Some hours later, Mark lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

He was hard - he was so hard that it was a wonder he hadn't passed out. 

He also had to leave the door the tiniest bit open, so Chica could get in and out. 

She scratched at the door and howled if he closed it, which ended up waking up the whole goddamn house, which was no good. 

But it meant that he was going back to his teenage jerk off days - make it quick, make it worth it.

If only he had the stamina he did back then....

Mark was pulled out of his head by a shuffling sound by the door. 

Okay. So Jack was going to the bathroom. 

Okay.

Mark pulled his hand out of his pants, resting it on the bed, his heart thundering in his ears and between his legs. 

And then... the door opened?!

Mark stared as Jack shuffled in.

He was mumbling, quietly, and then he was crawling into the bed, flopping flat on his tummy beside Mark. 

"Uh, Jack?" Mark kept his voice very quiet. "Dude?"

"Not tonight, Ma," Jack mumbled, and he burrowed into the pillow, one hand groping about. 

It found Mark's arm, and Jack held on. 

Oh fuck.

Was he sleepwalking?

"Jack? You're in my bed."

No response - just snoring.

Oh god.

Mark licked his lips - the light was still on in the bathroom, and spilling into the room. There were deep shadows over Jack's face, in the hollows of his cheekbones, long bars cast by his eyelashes. 

Mark's eyes traveled down, of their own volition, and he saw that Jack's shirt was riding up, showing off the pale expanse of his belly, down into the v of his hips. 

The dark hair under his navel led down into his pants, and Mark wanted nothing so much as to put his hand on it. 

But no. That would be wrong. 

He sighed, covering his face with both hands. 

He was still hard. 

He was still hard, and he wanted to hold Jack so badly, wanted to kiss him, wanted to suck his cock, wanted to... wanted....

He sighed again, annoyed with himself for being so needy, annoyed with Jack for sleep walking into the bedroom in the first place, annoyed at the universe at large and this particular bit of it in particular. 

Then he got up, carefully, and padded out into the living room. He stopped at the linen closet to grab an extra pillow and a blanket. 

Then he flopped on the couch, yawning, and stared up at the living room ceiling. 

His cock was still stiff in his pants. 

This was gonna be a long fucking night. 

* * *

Mark was woken up by Jack prodding him in the side.

"Uh, dude?" Jack stared down at Mark, one eyebrow up. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

"Because you were sleeping on the bed," Mark said. His brain still wasn't entirely firing on all cylinders. 

"Why was I sleeping in _your_ bed?" Jack crossed his arms, and his pajama pants were drooping down around his hips. 

"You climbed in, at like two in the morning," said Mark, sitting up. 

He had morning wood. 

Fuck. 

He pulled a pillow over his lap, and it was probably super obvious, but fuck it, he was too tired to be too self conscious. 

... no, that was a lie, he always had the mind to be self conscious, but still. 

"So you couldn't sleep in the same bed as me?" Jack's eyes were narrowing. "Is this because I told you I've kissed dudes before? Is this gonna go into no homo territory or some shit like that? Because you can fuck right off with that."

"Well, okay, no, I mean...." Mark groaned, covering his face with both hands.

There was no recovering from this, was there? 

"Okay," Mark said, slowly. "I... I need to tell you something."

"What kind of something?" 

"The kind of something where you might want to drink some coffee first." 

"Oh." Jack looked skeptical, but he went into the kitchen. There was the familiar "blub" as the coffee maker was turned on, and then quiet bustling noises.

Welp.

Time to bite the bullet.

* * * 

"The reason... the reason why I got kinda weird, when you told me that you've kissed guys before," Mark said, staring down at his hands, "is because... it's because, like, I've kinda been nursing a crush on you."

"You what." It wasn't even a question. Jack just looked floored. 

"A crush. I have a crush on you." Mark sighed, leaning back into his seat. "I have a crush on you, but like... I don't want you to feel like you have to do any of this shit. Like... you're...." He groaned, covering his face with both hands. 

"Hmm?"

"I feel like you're gonna feel like I invited you to stay here because I've got a crush on you, but I didn't want to, like... I didn't think it was fair of me. To sleep in bed with you. When I've got a crush on you."

"I trust you not to put the moves on me while I’m asleep," Jack said, and he was wearing an expression that pretty much matched Mark's feeling. "You're a good person."

"I'd never touch you in your sleep," Mark said quickly. "I mean, I'm not that kinda creep. That's gross as hell." He shrugged. "But I... kinda had a boner. And I was sleeping in the same bed as you, and I've got... I don't even know, pants feelings for you, and it felt gross and weird to be sleeping with you next to me."

"... right," said Jack. "Makes sense." He grinned, sheepish. "I'm sorry for coming at you like that." 

"Nah," said Mark. "It's... you know, understandable." He ran his fingers through his hair, avoiding eye contact. "I know what it looked like."

"Okay," said Jack. "So, uh, what do you wanna do now?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well," said Jack. "We can pretend this never happened. We could fuck and then go on with our lives and never do it again. We could acknowledge the awkward and just kinda go on with our lives. We could try dating...." 

"You'd... you'd be willing try dating me?" Mark was... well, that wasn't expected. 

"I mean, I'm not against it," Jack said. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't up for it." He huffed out a deep breath, his hair ruffling out of his face. "It's just... y'know, complicated." 

"Yeah?"

"Well, like... if we break up, would you kick me out?"

"Fuck, never," said Mark. "That'd be horrible."

"I figure," said Jack. “We’ve also got all the same friends, btu you’re not enough of a douchebag to make that a problem, either.” He flopped onto his own chair, coffee in hand. 

Miraculously, he managed not to spill any coffee. 

"So." Mark cleared his throat. "Since, uh... I've got a suggestion."

"Since you've got a suggestion?"

Mark snorted, and he gave Jack a Look. 

Jack grinned, cheeky. 

"Well," said Mark. "Since, uh... I've made it clear that there's... interest -" 

"Even though you're not sure what kind of interest it is," Jack interjected.

"Yes, that," said Mark. "I'm... leaving the ball in your court." 

Jack raised an eyebrow. 

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well," said Mark, "you're very good looking, and you're... you could have your choice of anyone you want, and I don't want you to...." He sighed. "I don't want to pursue you, if I don't know you don't want it. So if you want it... I'll pursue."

"What does that mean?" Jack seemed to be trying to sort this out. 

"It means," Mark said, "that if you're interested in me, or in dating, or whatever, you can take the lead. If you wanna be buddies for the rest of time, I'd be okay with that."

He wouldn't, but he'd get over it. 

"But if I don't...?" 

"Then... you could stop being friends with me, I guess," Mark said, although that was a painful prospect. 

"No, you dumbass," Jack said. "I mean if I wanted to be more than friends!"

"Then, uh, I guess you could ask me on a date. Or ask me to ask you on a date."

"Gotcha," said Jack. He paused. "Thanks for telling me, man. I appreciate it."

"What else was I gonna do?"

"Pine for three years, then tattoo a love confession across your back?" Jack began to giggle. 

Mark began to laugh as well, until the two of them were practically rolling on the floor, tears flowing, knees clenched together. 

"Feel better?" Jack grinned at Mark. 

"Yeah," said Mark, and he sighed. 

"This would explain a lot of things," Jack said casually. "I mean, the longing looks -" 

"I have _not_ been sending you longing looks," said Mark, indignant. 

"Just keep telling yourself that," said Jack, and he was snickering. 

Mark snorted, and he leaned back. 

He did feel better, at least. 

Carrying a subtle torch can be painful, and getting rejected was better than just holding onto it until the fingers are burned. 

... although now he was belaboring the metaphor. 

"Mark? You in there?"

Mark jerked out of it. 

"Sorry, I got lost in a thought," said Mark, and he grinned at Jack. 

"Must be lonely in there," said Jack. "Picturing a big, empty cathedral, lone thought wandering around with its candle, trying to find its fellows, but they're all... gone."

"Fuck you," Mark said affectionately. 

"You wish," Jack shot back, and then it was... uncomfortable. 

Mark cleared his throat. 

"I'm gonna start recording," said Mark, standing up. "I'll, uh, see you at lunch."

"Right," said Jack. "See ya later."

* * * 

"God, I'm awkward," Mark told Chica, as the dog chewed on a quiet toy and Mark arranged stuff in his studio. "But let's get this day going, hm?" 

He lost himself in the game for a while - being goofy, figuring mechanics out, making jokes, dying and shouting repeatedly. 

It was easy to get into it, when he was shouting, waving his hands around, generally just making a show of it all. 

It was a lot more pleasant in general to focus on work, rather than the fact that Jack knew that Mark had a crush on him, rather than the fact that he was going to be made fun of, or at least just... awkwardly put up with.

Sure, Jack had smooched guys in the past.

But not with someone like Mark. He was too awkward, and they were in the profession, and they'd end up stepping on each other's toes....

"I'm an idiot," Mark told the studio at large. 

His stomach growled. 

"An idiot who needs lunch," he amended. 

* * *

Jack was sitting at the table, looking a bit dazed. 

"You okay, man?" Mark shot him a concerned look.

"I hate that game," Jack groaned, and he put his face into his arms on the table. "I hate that goddamn game so much, I am going to find its babies, and I will spit on them."

"Games don't have babies," said Mark, pulling sandwich fixings out of the fridge. 

Jack snorted. 

"Would you wanna take me on a date?"

... that had come outta nowhere. 

"I mean, uh... if you'd wanna be taken out on a date."

"I'd like that." Jack smiled, looking shy. "Maybe, uh... maybe on Friday?" 

It was Wednesday. 

"Sure, sure," said Mark. "What, uh... what kind of date are we talking about?"

"Well," said Jack, "I was thinking we could just... you know, go on a date. Where do you normally take people on dates?" 

"I haven't taken someone on a date in a while," Mark admitted. "I think the restaurant I used to go to has closed down."

"Well," said Jack, "I guess you should find a new one, huh?" 

Mark turned bright red.

Jack grinned wider. 

"Don't forget to shave," Jack added. 

"Hm?" Mark stared down at his sandwich, then back up at Jack. 

"Your face. Don't forget to shave your face." Jack's expression was wicked. 

... oh god. 

"Noted," Mark mumbled. 

Jack was still snickering, as Mark shoved his sandwich into his mouth and all but ran to the studio. 

* * *

So it was gonna be a date. 

An actual capital-D date. 

Or at least, it'd be some kind of date, right? Maybe Jack would... let him hold hands. Or maybe even kiss him.

Or even more?

What were the chances for any of that? 

Oh god. 

Mark groaned again, when he was alone in his studio.

Welp.

Where was a good place to take someone out to dinner on a Friday night?

* * * 

"So can I ask an awkward question?" 

It was Thursday night, and Mark was eating a bowl of noodles, as Jack picked at a burger.

"Can you ask any other kind?" 

"You're real funny, Irish," Mark groused. "So, uh, about this date thing."

"What about it? Changed your mind?"

"Why would I change my mind?"

Mark's heart plummeted down into his stomach. 

Jack shrugged. 

"No idea," said Jack. "but, uh, to be honest? Sometimes I have a hard time getting a read on you, since you always seem to try to be presenting your best side to me, at least lately. Which is awesome, don't get me wrong, but I don't always know what you're thinking."

"Oh." Mark blushed. "Sorry about that."

"Oh no," Jack said, deadpan. "You wanna impress the person you have a crush on. What a horrible human being you are."

"I mean," Mark said, "when you put it like that...." He laughed, the tension easing, escaping like so much steam from a teakettle. 

"So what was it that you wanted to know? About the date?" 

"It sounds so auspicious when you say it like that," said Mark. 

"Nobody's ever taken _me_ on a date," said Jack. "I've always been the one who invites people out. It's all a bit new to me."

"Is there a reason you wanna, like, go full bore and go to a restaurant and shit?" Mark reached down to pat Chica, who had her head on his knee, in hopes of errant noodles. "Most people... well, the majority of the dates I've been on have been coffee dates."

"Well," said Jack, "I figure we don't really need the getting to know you shit, since I already know you." Then he smirked. "Besides, you know where shit is. Maybe this way I can find a good place to take future dates, if this doesn't work out."

... ouch.

"Shit, that was the wrong thing to say," said Jack. "I'm a fucking dumbass, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's okay," said Mark, and he made himself laugh. "I mean, we don't even know if this is gonna work out in the first place. And nothing is _forever_ , what with the inevitable heat death of the universe and whatnot."

He was making physics jokes.

He was anxious, and he was making physics jokes. 

Wow.

"There are... ways to find out," Jack said, and he reached over, taking Mark's hand in his own. 

"What, if the heat death of the universe is real? Isn't entropy an, um... a proven concept?" 

He was babbling. Oh god, he was babbling, this was no good, he must look like an idiot. 

But Jack's hand was warm and dry, and Jack was squeezing his fingers. 

"You are such a fucking dork," said Jack, and he stood up.

He stood up, and he walked around the counter, and he took Mark's hand in his own, and he leaned down.

And he kissed Mark.

It was a dry kiss, no more than a few seconds, but it was a press of lips on lips, and it was... it was....

"Oh," said Mark, and he blinked up at Jack.

His mind was blank.

Gloriously, mercifully blank. No more conflicting arguments, no more yelling at himself that he was doing it wrong or that he was just going to fuck it all up.

Just... blessed, blessed silence.

"I, um... I think we'll be okay," said Jack, and he was blushing. 

"Yeah?" Mark licked his lips, resisting the urge to touch his lips.

"Yeah," said Jack, and he gave Mark's fingers a final squeeze, then let go of his hand. 

"Right," said Mark, and he realized, belatedly, that he was smiling.

How about that, huh?

* * * 

Friday was a nervous day. 

Mark even made a point of trying to relax - it was just Jack, after all! 

Jack had been totally normal after they'd kissed - they'd played a few rounds of Mario Kart, they'd watched a movie, then they'd gone to bed. Not even an awkward conversation. It had all just... flowed, which was partially why Mark was so nervous.

Things _never_ went this smooth. They just didn't. 

He was careful with choosing what he was gonna wear - a nice button down shirt, some equally nice jeans. He shaved his face carefully, he washed everything twice, he even attempted to keep the dog hair off of his pants, although that was a lost cause. 

He stared in the mirror, and he tried to make his hair do what he wanted it to do.

And then he opened the bathroom door, to meet with... a nicely dressed jack, who was even wearing a bowtie. 

"Wow," said Mark. "You look, uh... dapper."

"I'm the dapperest mother fucker this side of anywhere," said Jack, and he licked his lips, then blushed. "So, uh, you ready?"

"I'm ready," said Mark. "I just need to put on shoes."

"And I need to pee," said Jack. "If I could use the bathroom?"

"Oh! Right!" Mark moved out of the way, stepping out of the door, and then Jack was closing the door behind them. 

Mark sat at the kitchen table, shoving his hands in his pockets, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Right," said Jack. "Ready to go!" 

"Right," said Mark. He stood up, rubbing his hands across his thighs nervously, and he stood up. "Right."

Jack took Mark's hand, and Mark blushed. 

Jack squeezed his fingers.

"Relax," said Jack. "It's just us two."

"Well, yeah," said Mark. "But like... it's other stuff too."

"You bringing out the sex toys or something?"

"What?!"

"It's just us," said Jack, and he squeezed Mark's hand again, letting him go so that they could go out the door. "Nothing new. It's okay." 

"It's okay," Mark repeated back at him. He sighed. "I... I haven't been on a date in a while, and the last one ended up going kinda sour."

"What kinda sour?"

"I got soda dumped on my head."

"Did you deserve it?"

Mark shrugged. 

"Up for debate."

"You wanna tell that story?"

They both stepped into the car, and Mark started it out. 

"Well," said Mark.

* * * 

It was… it was normal.

Well, no, that was a lie - bits of it were pretty complicated. 

Like where did they sit? When Jack slid into the booth, Mark froze. 

Did he sit next to Jack? Did he sit opposite him? 

“Just sit,” said Jack, possibly seeing Mark’s expression. “Pretend you were on a date with a girl.”

“Well, uh, usually I don’t know girls as well as I know you,” said Mark, but he sat on the chair, across from Jack.

“There’s all this advice saying how you should date your best friend anyway,” said Jack, and he reached across the table, squeezing Mark’s fingers. “I’m serious. Just relax.” 

Mark sighed heavily, and he squeezed Jack’s hand back. 

He didn’t even care that people could see them. Who gave a fuck? 

“I’m afraid I’m only interested in you for your body,” Mark blurted out.

“... what?” Jack blinked at him, one eyebrow going up. 

He didn’t let go of Mark’s hand, though. 

“I’m… I’m lonely,” Mark said, and he sighed. “I’m all worried I’m going to end up only being into you because you’re another human being who’s into me, and it’s all… you know….”

Jack shrugged, his thumb passing over the top of Mark’s hand. 

“Just relax,” he told him. “It’s okay. I promise. If I’m unhappy, I’ll say something, okay? Or if I feel like you’re just using me for my admittedly smoking hot bod.”

“You are so full of yourself,” Mark said, but he was grinning. 

In the dim light of the restaurant, Jack’s hair shone like a beacon. 

“That’s not the only thing I’ll be full of, if this night goes right,” said Jack, and he waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, Jack,” Mark said, and he was laughing now. “You fuckin’... you’re awfully self assured!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said, putting his free hand to his chest in an offended gesture. “I am of course talking about the lovely food at this fancy establishment.”

“What makes you think it’s a fancy establishment?”

“Well, I wore a bowtie to it, for one.”

“So the wearing of a bowtie makes a place fancy?”

“Exactly.”

“By that logic, if we walked into a McDonald's, it’d be fancy, since you’re wearing a bow tie!” 

“Exactly,” said Jack, and then he began to laugh, hard enough that his face turned red and scrunched up.

Mark wanted to kiss Jack so badly, so badly he almost felt the pressure against his lips. 

He cleared his throat, and let go of Jack’s hand to pick up the menu.

“So, uh, the reviews online said that the chicken here is really good.” 

“Which one? I see at least four different kinds of chicken!” 

“Hmm….” 

* * * 

Jack held Mark's hand over the table, when they finished their (pretty good) food. He ran his thumb over the backs of Mark's knuckles, and he looked pleased with himself, blushing in the dim light. 

"So how long have you been, uh... into guys?" 

Mark snorted, watching the other patrons, the waiters scurrying around. 

"That's a bit of an awkward question," said Mark, and he was giggling. "I mean, uh, I... kinda just kinda came to the conclusion?" 

"Yeah?" Jack squeezed Mark's fingers, then let go, so that the waiter could give them menus. "See, I'm picturing you, like, doin' calculations, glasses on the edge of your nose, then just... holding up a piece of paper saying 'officially not straight.'" 

Mark snickered. 

"Well, I mean, there was a bit more, uh... dick involved," said Mark. "Less with the calculations, more with the guilty jerking off."

"Can you jerk off in any other way? Sometimes I think you've got guilt programmed into your DNA!"

"I can jerk off in lots of ways, I'll have you know," said Mark.

"Really? Care to share?" 

... oh wow.. 

"Dude," said Jack, "your face right now is fuckin'... amazing. Holy shit." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mark said, blushing harder, his eyes darting from Jack's face to his hands to the menu in front of him. 

"Although I wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall for that," said Jack, and then he looked up at Mark through his eyelashes, and he was smirking. 

Mark turned a darker color, glancing back up at him. 

"You're... actually interested in that?" Mark cleared his throat. "I mean, the... physical parts of it. Not just the, like, kissing stuff...."

"For fuck sake," Jack said, and he looked... genuinely frustrated. "Mark, have you _seen_ yourself? Do you know how many fuckin'... fans you've got, panting after you?" 

"Well, yeah, but that's... different, you know?" 

"How?"

"People glom on to internet people. It's different from... like, being attracted to me. Beyond the shit like 'choke me daddy' or whatever."

Jack snorted. 

"Well," said Jack, "you're fucking hot. I wanna do sexy shit with you. To you. By you." Jack paused. "I mean, like, I want you to do sexy stuff to me. And me to do sexy stuff to you. And general sexy stuff... in general."

"What, like... now?" 

"I mean, I'd like to, uh... take some time." Jack leaned back, and he laughed, clearly nervous. "I've never, like... been intimate with a guy before, beyond some kissing." 

"Right," said Mark. "I mean, I'm in the same boat."

"That makes me feel better," said Jack. "At least we can be clueless together?" He gave a goofy thumbs up, which made Mark laugh.

"Only you," said Mark, "could make, like, serious sex negotiation with a thumbs up."

Jack snorted.

"You want serious sex negotiations? That's when we're figuring out the safe words." Jack held both hands up. "I'm kidding." 

"Do we... need a safe word?" 

"I don't think so," Jack said. "I mean, unless you want one?"

"... I have, like, no experience with this shit," said Mark. 

"I dunno. Is this any different than going on a date with a girl?" 

"I haven't lived with the girls I've dated," Mark pointed out. "And there's, like... you know, societal narratives and shit about it."

"What do you mean, narratives?"

"Like... do I pay, since I asked you out? Since neither of us is a girl, are we supposed to like... what counts as putting out too early?"

"There's no such thing as putting out too early," said Jack, making a dismissive face.

"Well, okay, yeah, but it's still... complicated, you know?"

"Yeah, I think I follow." Jack shrugged. "We just gotta figure it out on our own, I guess."

"Do you want dessert?" 

"Yeah, I could go for some chocolate cake...." 

* * * 

The ride back to the house was quiet, and there was a... tension growing. His cock was starting to swell up, his belly was tightening up, and every time he glanced at Jack, Jack would blush and look down, which would only raise the tension.

"So," Jack said, when they were both inside and the door closed, "wanna watch a movie?" 

"Sure," said Mark. "I like movies." 

Wow. 

On the list of stupid lines, that was pretty high up there. 

* * * 

Jack sat in the middle of the couch, and he had an arm around the back of the couch. 

Mark looked from the couch to the chair, momentarily unsure as to where to sit, before flopping down next to Jack.

Fuck it.

Jack wrapped an arm around Mark's shoulders, cuddling closer, and Mark froze.

Shit. 

Jack was so _warm_ , and it shouldn't have been such of a surprise - it wasn't as if he was dead or anything. All people are warm. 

But all people weren't cuddled up to Mark like that, Jack was. 

So they turned the movie on, and Mark tried to pretend he didn't have a raging erection. 

Think of ice.

But how could he think of ice, when Jack was breathing on his neck, Jack was snuggling closer with his head on Mark's chest, his arm moving to wrap around Mark's waist. 

Could Jack hear Mark's heartbeat speeding up? 

This was all very... something. Awkward. 

Arousing. 

Weird. 

Mark sighed, and Jack looked up at him with those big blue eyes. 

"That was a pretty baleful sigh," said Jack. 

"Sorry," said Mark, and he cautiously brought his arm down, to wrap around Jack's shoulders. 

Jack relaxed, and he chuckled. "You're all up in your head, aren't you?"

Mark laughed as well. 

"Yeah," he admitted. 

"Well," said Jack, "what are you so nervous about?"

His expression was... Mark couldn't even read it. 

"Well, uh, this is kinda... close, you know," said Mark. 

Jack raised an eyebrow, and he sat up.

"We could be closer," Jack said, and he was pressing closer, his hip pressed against Mark's.

Bony fucker. 

"Y-yeah? By, uh... getting flayed?"

Jack, who had been leaning in closer, paused, and looked at him. 

“ _What?!_ ” 

“Well, I mean, uh, if we really wanted to get closer, we could, uh, we could… not have skin, so….” Mark trailed off. “I’m killing the mood, aren’t I?”

“Li’l bit,” said Jack. “Let’s see if we can get it back on track.” He leaned closer, his hand on Mark’s thigh, and he was kissing Mark. 

It was a lot like their first kiss - short, dry, almost electric. 

And then Jack pulled back, to look him in the eye, and kissed him again, more deliberately this time, one of his hands going to Mark’s cheek, moving his head slowly, press and pull of their lips together.

His scruff was rough against Mark’s face, and his lips were a little bit chapped. 

“Oh,” said Mark, when Jack pulled back, panting, glassy eyed.

“Is that a good noise or a bad noise?”

“It’s a good noise,” Mark said, and he licked his lips. “I just, uh… I want to kiss you some more, but I’m worried about… you know, losing control.”

“What, are you a werewolf or something?”

“Well, no, but it’s… been a while.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” 

“Well,” Mark said, staring up at the ceiling as he was thinking, trying to word it right. “I’m, uh, I’m… lonely. And it’s been a while. I worry about… you know, tripping over your boundaries, or hurting you, stuff like that.”

“Can you trust me to call you out if something happens?” Jack held Mark’s gaze, his big blue eyes serious. 

“Yeah,” Mark said, a bit breathless. 

“Then trust me,” said Jack, and then he was pushing his body closer to Mark’s, climbing into his lap, belly to belly, straddling him.

Mark could feel Jack’s breath, filling his chest and deflating it, filling and deflating. 

He put his hands on Jack’s back, cradling his shoulder blades through his button down shirt, and he kissed him.

He kissed Jack with his whole mouth, with his lips and his tongue, nervously nudging at Jack’s lips, then sliding all the way into Jack’s mouth, as his hands rubbed up and down Jack’s back. 

Jack moaned against Mark’s mouth, and he squirmed closer, opening his mouth further, and now it was _proper_ deep kissing, to the point that Mark could taste a little bit of the chocolate cake that Jack had eaten. 

Mark moaned back, and he pulled Jack closer, grabbing at the back of Jack's shirt, untucking it to slide his hands under, his palms against the bare skin.

Jack had hair on his back, and it was wiry against Mark's hands. He was warm, but he wasn't sweaty, and he shivered when Mark ran his fingertips along the knobs of his spine.

He was so _sensitive_ \- he actually broke their kiss to press his forehead against Mark's, panting, open mouthed. He arched against Mark's hands, as Mark kept stroking him, gently. 

"Fuck," Jack groaned, and he was... he was humping Mark's belly, he was full on humping him, moaning, gasping with every pass of Mark's fingers, and he was grinding against Mark's erection, and Mark was beginning to pant as well, the stimulation - not even, the... the warmth, the combination of boniness and softness that was Jack, the faces Jack made as Mark gently scratched his fingernails up and down Jack's back....

"Can I... can I open your shirt?" Mark licked his lips.

"Yeah, hold on." Jack sat back, and then he was square on Mark's erection, and _oh_ , fuck, that... that....

Mark moaned, deep and guttural in the back of his throat, and he held on to Jack's hips and humped up against him, watching through half closed eyes as Jack rode him like a mechanical bull. 

And then the image of Jack on his dick - that tight, amazing ass just swallowing him up - filed his head, and would Jack's face look like that? Biting his lip, eyes half lidded, cheeks pink?

Mark came in his pants.

It wasn't much of an orgasm - his belly tightened up, his legs went hard, and his cock twitched, but it was... well, about as good of an orgasm as he could get from dry humping on the couch. 

It wasn't like he was sixteen or anything.

Although... geez.

"Did you just...?" Jack looked down, where Mark's cock was still pressed against his ass.

"... yep," said Mark, and he was blushing, looking to the side. "I'm, uh, I'm really sorry, that doesn't normally, uh... it doesn't...."

Jack snorted, and he kissed Mark, a gentle peck on the lips. 

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I'm, uh... I'm not that far off myself." He laughed, clearly self conscious. "If you were on top of me I might've done the same." 

"You think so?" Mark let go of Jack's hips, rubbing the back of his own neck sheepishly. 

"Yeah," said Jack. He cleared his throat. "You wanna, uh... maybe watch a movie? Like, actually watch the movie?" 

"Yeah," said Mark. "Yeah, that sounds nice." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for, um, for losing control like that."

Jack stood up, and Mark immediately mourned the loss. 

"Don't worry about it," said Jack. Then he grinned. "Although I hope you've got better stamina than that." 

"Oh, I do," Mark said, attempting to sound suave. 

"Well," said Jack, "I guess you'll have to show me next time." 

Mark blushed. 

Jack was sporting a really obvious boner, and didn't seem in the least embarrassed by it. 

"How about we both change clothes, get more comfy?" Jack tugged on his bow tie.

"Sounds good." Mark stood up, and he made a face - the cum had pasted his cock to his boxers. 

* * * 

He heard it when Jack came - the door to Jack's room was open, and Jack was being... well, loud. 

He blushed, and changed into his pajamas, then flopped back on the couch, trying to act casual. 

Chica cuddled up on the floor by his foot, and he rubbed her ears, as Jack came out as well, wearing Mark's pajama pants and an old t-shirt.

"You still have those?" Mark raised an eyebrow. "We got your stuff back, like, a week ago."

"They're comfy," Jack said defensively, and he sat on the couch next to Mark, unashamedly cuddling up to him, his head on Mark's chest. 

"... oh," said Mark. "Fair enough."

"Also, I stretched the waistband out. 'cause I've got hips and shit."

"I've got hips too," Mark said defensively, grabbing the remote and paging mindlessly through Netflix. "It's how I walk upright."

"You don't have hips like mine," said Jack, and Mark blushed, remembering the feel of those hips under his hands. 

"Fair enough," Mark said, and he wrapped his arms around Jack cautiously, pulling him closer. 

Jack just snuggled in, sighing in what Mark hoped was contentment. 

* * * 

Mark didn't ever want to get off the couch - Jack fell asleep on him. But sleeping on the couch too often left him sore, and Jack should at least have a choice. 

So he reluctantly woke Jack up, and he kissed him goodnight before going to bed. 

* * *

To add insult to injury, he had a wet dream. He didn't even remember it, he just woke up with his boxers sticky. 

* * *

He was grumpy at the breakfast table, and Jack raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't leave you that blue balled, did I?"

"... what?"

"You look like someone shat in your cereal," Jack said amicably. 

"I'll be fine," said Mark, and when he looked up, Jack was still wearing pajama pants, and he was smiling.

Mark had to smile back, because... how could he not?

"I had fun last night," Jack said, and he took a glug of his ever present cup of coffee.

"I did too," said Mark.

"Let's do it again some time."

"Which part?" 

... why had he said that? 

Fuck. 

"Well, I mean, I don't think it's good for either of our wallets if we go to fancy food places every day."

"You mean restaurants?"

"Shut up, I'm just having my coffee."

Mark snorted, but he grinned. 

* * *

They kissed some more, over the course of the next two weeks. 

They did other stuff too - Mark nearly burnt the kitchen down by accident, while trying to cook a roast. Jack blew his voice out from a particularly enraging game. 

And they stayed fully clothed, although their kissing got better. 

They kissed in every part of the house - from the kitchen to, on one memorable occasion, the hallway, right up against Mark's bedroom door. 

The time passed pleasantly. 

Although Mark was so keyed up he came in his pants two more times. 

To say nothing of all the masturbation. 

And oh, was there masturbation. 

He was going to develop new muscles in his arms. 

Not that Jack was much better - maybe he was getting less… modest, or maybe he just wanted to tease Mark, but Mark… heard a lot more than he used to. 

He took to leaving his own door open, since fair was fair. 

At least it kept Chica from howling. 

* * * 

"Can I make an awkward suggestion?" 

"What kind of awkward?" 

Jack put his elbows on the table, looking Mark in the eye. 

"I wanna do more dirty shit with you, but like... not on the couch."

"Not on the couch?" 

"Nah." Jack groaned, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. "Why do we keep having these important talks when we're eating something?"

"Because it's the only time we're in the same room and not distracted with other stuff."

"We should do other stuff."

"We _should_ do other stuff."

"Well, yeah, that's kinda what I'm proposing." Jack fiddled with his hands. "I mean, like, when I was talking about the couch... like...." He made an annoyed sound. "We could do the thing, where, like... we plan to do... fun stuff, without the whole... spontaneity."

"You mean actually, like, planning to do dirty stuff?" 

"Yeah, something like that." 

"Sure," said Mark. "Where would you want to do it?"

"... I'd really like to make out with you on my bed," said Jack. "Honestly, one of my favorite things to fuckin'... jerk off to is that idea."

Mark licked his lips.

"You jerk off to me?"

"No duh," Jack said, and he sounded almost frustrated. "You're fucking gorgeous, Mark. Like, you make out with me and the we just... go to bed. Apart from you cumming in your pants a few times, I'm not so lucky."

"Lucky," Mark said, and he snorted. "Why do you think I do laundry so much?"

"... fair," said Jack. "But, uh, yeah." He cleared his throat. "Wanna... watch a movie in my room?"

"I thought we were gonna plan dirty stuff," said Mark.

"We are," said Jack. "It just feels fuckin' weird to say "Hey, wanna come to my bedroom to have a mutual jerk off, maybe some head or something like that"?" 

Mark blushed, but he began to laugh because... well, okay, Jack had a point there. 

"Fair enough," said Mark. "I'd... I'd be up for that. Sure." 

"Awesome," said Jack, and he stood up, leaned down to peck Mark on the mouth, then went back to his studio, presumably to do more recording. 

* * * 

After dinner, Mark followed after Jack into his room, well aware of how ridiculous this was. 

"Come on in," said Jack, as if Mark hadn't been in here a billion other times, for any number of reasons. 

He'd made the bed, at least. 

"So, uh, I've got Netflix on my computer, I figure we could watch something off of that?

* * * 

They never did get to the Netflix. 

* * *

Jack was on top of Mark. He was straddling Mark, and he was grinding down against Mark, dick to dick. They were kissing, the kind of kissing that they'd finally gotten good at, although this was a novel position. 

Jack was a lot... smaller than Mark, but he made up for it in energy - he was rocking his hips, squirming, breaking from Mark's mouth to kiss along the other man's neck, moving along his jaw, sucking on his earlobe. 

"Dude," said Jack, after almost ten minutes of just making out, "dude, you need to take your shirt off."

"I do?"

"Yeah." Jack licked his lips. "You know, for, uh... for science." 

Mark raised an eyebrow. 

Jack flushed, and then he started laughing. 

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

"I thought you were gonna show me yours anyway," Mark drawled. 

Jack blushed even harder, but he laughed, grabbing his shirt by the back and pulling it over his head. 

"You are _so_ white," said Mark. "Holy shit man." He pressed down on Jack's chest with three fingers, and it left a whiter imprint, that quickly turned pink, then regular skin colored. 

Jack blushed. 

"Listen," he said. "I'm Irish. This is the color we usually come in." He paused. "You said you'd show me yours."

"I guess you're right," said Mark, sitting up slowly. "Give you a chance to see the gun show." He flexed, and he saw Jack roll his eyes.

He also saw Jack lick his lips, his expression going a bit glassy, and if that wasn't a boost to the ol' ego, nothing would be. 

Mark pulled his shirt off, and he made a surprised noise when Jack grabbed one of his pecs, squeezing it. 

He moaned, as Jack's palm pressed against his nipple, and then Jack's fingers were on it, and okay, no, that wasn't fair, that was....

"Jack," Mark said, and then again, louder. "Dude." 

"Mmm?" 

"If you do that, I'm gonna cum in like... three minutes," said Mark, and he covered Jack's hands with his own, moving them down to rest on his ribs. "I'm super sensitive." 

"I thought you said you had more stamina than that," said Jack, and he looked amused as all hell. 

"I do, when you're not just going straight for my hot spots," said Mark, defensive. He licked his lips. "Can I... can I touch you?"

"You're already touching me," said Jack cheekily. 

Mark rolled his eyes. He grabbed Jack by the hips, and he rolled them over, so that he was on top of Jack, his hands planted on either side of Jack's head. 

"Oh." Jack stared up at him with those big blue eyes of his, and then he paused. "Can you turn off the overhead light?"

"What?"

"The light. The ceiling fixture. When I'm on my back like this, it's right in my face." He indicated the bedside lamp. "You can use that one, just, uh... I get headaches if I look at it too long."

"Right," said Mark, scrambling upright. 

He turned the bedside lamp on first, to be on the safe side, then turned the light off - the bedside lamp bathed them in a yellow-golden glow, and Jack looked a bit less like he could have a movie projected on him. 

He was lying there on, his back, his jeans riding low, his erection obvious and hard against his thigh, his skinny chest rising and falling as he panted.

"Well?" Jack got up on his elbows, making what he probably thought was a sultry expression. "Aren't you going to ravish me?" 

Mark froze.

“Do you, uh… want me to?”

“What? Like, full on butt pounding?” Now it was Jack’s turn to look a little panicked. “I, uh, I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. If that’s okay.” He laughed, clearly nervous. “I want a bit more practice first.”

“P-practice,” Mark said, and he shivered, his cock getting harder, if that was even fucking possible. 

“Yeah,” said Jack. “But, um… I’d like you to come here and keep kissing me and touching me.”’

“Good. Our goals line up,” Mark said, and he then he was mentally kicking himself. 

He sounded like he was making a fucking business deal.

Jack was starting to laugh, his face turning red, covering his mouth with both hands. 

“Only you, Mark,” he said, still chuckling as Mark climbed back onto the bed with him. 

Mark was grinning when he kissed him again, Jack’s scruff rough against his own. 

Their chests pressed together, and the hair of Jack’s chest was wiry, almost ticklish against Mark’s nipples, and Jack’s beard was equally ticklish against Mark’s neck. 

Mark kissed down Jack’s chest, pausing to kiss his nipples, then move lower, nuzzling his belly.

At which point Jack nearly kneed him in the gut. 

“So you’re ticklish,” Mark said, sitting up and wheezing quietly. 

“Good guess,” Jack said, and he was giggling. 

“Uh, Jack?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can I take your pants off?” 

“Yeah, sure,” said Jack. “Do you, uh, do you need help with that?” 

“Yeah, thanks.”

There were an awkward few moments, hands bumping together, and then Mark had his fingers tucked under Jack’s waistband, and he was pulling Jack’s pants… down, and there were a pair of black cotton boxers, and a sizable hard on. 

“Can I….” Mark’s hand hovered over Jack’s erection, the wet tip staining Jack’s boxers. 

Jack licked his lips, looking down at Mark’s hand, then at Mark’s face. 

“Y-yeah,” Jack mumbled. “Yeah, go for it.” 

Makr reached down, and he wrapped his hand around someone else’s cock, for the first time. 

“Wow,” said Mark, and he licked his lips. 

“I know I’ve got a nice dick,” Jack said, and he laughed, clearly uncomfortable. “But I’m not that impressive.”

“I’ve, uh… I’ve never touched someone else like this before.” 

“No?” Jack looked slightly panicked. “You’ve never been sexual with someone else?”

“Well, no, okay, I’ve been sexual with other people. Yours is my first penis. That I’m not attached to. I mean, I’m attached to it, just not, like… attached to it via… skin. Or ligaments. Is it a ligament?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. 

He looked amused. 

“You okay there?” 

“Yeah,” said Mark, and he looked down. 

That was his hand on Jack’s dick. How about that. 

“You, uh… you just gonna keep it there? Or are you gonna do something with it?” 

“I’ll do something with it,” Mark said, and he brought his hand along the shaft, squeezing the head of Jack’s cock. There was a bunch of fabric around the head of it, making it a bit harder to grip, and Jack squirmed, when Mark tried to push it back. 

“Um. Do you want me to take my shorts off?”

Mark licked his lips. 

“... can I do it?” 

“Sure,” said Jack. He grinned, cheeky. “Have you, uh, have you been thinking about this?”

“Since you moved in,” Mark said, and there was a raw honesty in his voice that was… it was terrifying. It was vulnerable.

That wasn’t a thing that he did. 

Except apparently now it was. 

“Well, uh… far be it from me to keep your month long hopes and dreams from you,” said Jack. He grabbed a pillow to prop himself up, and he looked down the line of his body at Mark. 

Mark pulled Jack’s boxers down slowly - he kept his eyes on the trail of hair going down his belly, and then there was that one… spot, where Jack’s pubic hair started, and there was the very root of his cock, and then the shaft, and then….

And then it was all there. All of it, sprung forward, pressed against his belly. 

And… wow.

“You’re not circumcised?” 

It was… it was bigger than Mark had thought it would be. Pink, almost purple. 

And there was a lot more skin than he was used to.

“Why would I be? I’m not Jewish or Muslim.”

“I mean, I’m not either, but still.” Mark took a deep breath, and he wrapped his hand around Jack’s cock and jerked it, like he would his own.

At which point Jack bellowed and shoved him away.

“Shit, shit, sorry, oh fuck,” said Mark, sitting back on his heels, between Jack’s legs. “I’m sorry.”

His heart was in his throat, beating a mile a minute. “I’m _so_ sorry!” 

“‘S’okay,” Jack mumbled, and he grinned over at Jack. “Just, uh… in the future… how about I show you?”

“You wanna put a stop to it for the evening?” 

“Oh, no,” said Jack. “Just… here.”

He put his hand over Mark’s, squeezing Mark’s fingers, and he guided it to his cock. Then he squeezed, and moved his hand. 

Mark copied him, slow, shallow strokes, squeezing the head, and Jack moaned, his hips rolling forward into Mark’s hand. 

“Fuck,” Jack mumbled, and his head tilted back, his eyes squeezing shut. 

It was thick and hot in Mark’s hand, slippery, and at some point, Jack had let go, because he was holding on to Mark’s arm now, squeezing it every time Mark’s muscle flexed. 

“Can I blow you?”

… where did that come from? 

“Um.” Jack licked his lips. “Do you, uh… do you want to?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You just think so?” Jack shivered - his whole body was tensing up. “I don’t… I don’t want you to feel like you have to, or whatever. Because you don’t.” He sighed, trying to get his words out in the right order. “Like… I know there’s, like, this expectation that if you’re gonna do the one thing, means you’re gonna do the other. But you don’t have to.”

“... are you worried I’m being peer pressured into giving you a blow job?” Mark made a confused face. 

“Not… like, peer pressured, but, like… I dunno. Narratively pressured? ‘Cause that’s how it goes in all the gay pornos.”

“Jack,” Mark said, carefully, “we’re not in a gay porno.” 

“Well, okay, yeah, you’re right,” said Jack, and he flopped back. 

Then he started laughing. 

“I’m thinking too into this, aren’t I?”

“Li’l bit,” said Mark, and he grinned. “But, uh… if you’re not comfortable… I’d be okay with us not doing that.”

“Oh no,” Jack said, deadpan. “I’m gonna turn down a blowjob from the totally hot guy who’s got his hands on my dick.”

“You never know,” Mark said, and he prodded Jack in the thigh. “So was that a yes?”

“Yes, Mark,” Jack said, in a long suffering tone, “you may suck my cock. Please suck my cock, Mark. It would make me very - _oh_!” 

Mark smirked around the head of Jack’s cock, taking it a little deeper into his mouth, sucking on it clumsily, drool running down his mouth to puddle in Jack’s groin, pasting down his pubic hair. 

“Oh… oh!” Jack rocked his hips forward, and he was moaning now, one hand resting nervously on the top of Mark’s head. 

Mark pulled off, mouthing along Jack’s shaft, then moving lower, cautiously kissing under the shaft, right about Jack’s balls.

“Mark?” 

“Mmm?” 

“I haven’t washed my balls all day. Could you maybe give them a miss?”

“You washed your dick and not your balls?” 

“Why do you think I washed my dick?”

“It doesn’t taste like piss.”

“Why would you think my dick would taste like piss in the first place?!” Jack look offended. 

“... all the stuff I looked up about sucking cock said it’d taste a bit like pee,” said Mark. “Unless you washed your dick, I mean.” 

“I mean… I generally just… okay, I gave my dick a scrub. I thought I’d be getting, like, a handy. Not your face in my crotch.” 

“Do you want my face to not be in your crotch?”

“No, I like it there. I most assuredly like it there. Just… not my balls.”

“Fair enough,” said Mark. “If I may continue?”

“Oh, do continue, my good sir,” Jack said, in his best snooty voice. 

Mark began to suck him off again, and it didn’t taste like piss, thank god - it was salty, musky, a bit bitter, and Jack squirmed under him, making quiet little moans, then gasps. 

Mark cautiously ran his teeth along the shaft, gently, and swirled his tongue along the head, and then Jack… got less quiet.

“Oh, fuck, Mark!” Jack’s fingers were tangled in Mark’s hair, and he was pulling just hard enough to make Mark moan, which went up Jack’s cock, which made him squirm some more, and Mark was taking more of it up his throat, into his mouth, sucking on it, bobbing his head, trying to very gently use his teeth along the head. 

“Fuck, Mark I’m… fuck, Mark, oh, fuck!” 

Jack pulled his cock out of Mark’s mouth in one motion, pushing his foreskin back and jerking his cock desperately three times, then came across his stomach. 

Mark watched Jack’s face - his eyes shut tightly, his mouth open, his breath coming in desperate pants. 

He glanced down, and saw the cum across Jack’s belly and chest, and... okay, holy fuck.

Without thinking, he stuck his finger in it, collecting it on the tip, then sticking it in his mouth.

… ew. 

Okay, yeah, that was jizz.

“Tastes different from mine,” said Mark, lacking something else to say.

“You taste your own cum?” 

“... I mean, uh… sometimes?”

“Fair enough,” Jack said. “Could you pass me some tissues, maybe?”

“Yeah, sure, hold on.” 

Mark stood up, awkwardly, his legs wobbly, and grabbed the box from the dresser. He pulled out a few tissues, and handed them to Jack, who began to clean off his belly. 

Jack made a face. 

“Boys are messy,” he told Mark. “Lesson one.”

“So I’ve not learned any other lessons, in the time we’ve been… intimate?” Mark raised an eyebrow, and tried to keep his hands away from his cock. 

He was so hard that it _hurt_ , throbbing like a broken tooth, and he was pretty sure he these pants would never be the same. 

“Do you want help… taking care of that?” Jack indicated between Mark’s legs. He was had sat up, and tossed his tissues in the garbage can by the bed. 

“Sure,” said Mark. “I’d, uh… yeah. That’d be nice.”

“... can I make a weird request?” Jack looked… well, downright embarrassed. 

“... sure?” 

Was Jack going to ask for Mark to pee on him, or call him Daddy, or something else like that?

Well, there were weirder things in the world to ask for. 

“Okay,” said Jack, and he licked his lips. “I’ve… I’ve kinda got this whole fantasy, and if you’re not interested, that’s totally okay, I totally get it, it’s kinda weird, I just, uh….”

“Do you have a thing for cake farting?”

“... what?” Jack was, at the very least, pulled out of his anxious spiral.

“Cake farting. Is that what you want me to do?”

“What? No!” 

“So what is it?”

“... I have a fleshlight,” said Jack. “Can I use it on you?”

“What, one of those pocket pussies?” 

That was it? 

Mark had expected something a bit… weirder. Not just a regular sex toy.

An admittedly expensive sex toy, but still. 

“I mean, I didn’t wanna have a chopped up fanny in my dresser drawer,” said Jack, and he was leaning over the edge of the bed, partially hobbled by his shorts, to grab a box. 

Mark didn’t really see what was in the box - he just watched Jack rummage in it, and then come out with… yeah, that was a fleshlight.

It was a shorter one, and clear. Mark could make out little silicone nubs inside of it. 

Jack was blushing, which made the hickeys that Mark had left on his chest stand out that much more. 

“It’s… I got it when I was living in the middle of nowhere,” said Jack. “And, uh, I figured… I mean….” He huffed out, looking annoyed. “I wanna see your dick in that. Like, a lot. When I jerk off, I think about that, a lot of the time.”

“Yeah?” Mark was smirking. “Do you think about me often when you jerk off?”

“Oh, quite a bit,” said Jack. “Do ya wanna quit it with the witty banter and actually get to the sexy shit?”

“I dunno,” said Mark. “You’re kinda sexy when you’re doing the banter thing.” He sat at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. “What do you need me to do?”

“Well, uh….” Jack licked his lips. “Can I… can I touch your dick?”

“You can touch my dick. You can suck my dick, you can stick sex toys on it….”

“But not in it, I take it,” said Jack and he was retrieving something else from the side of the bed. 

His ass was… very nicely on display, when he leaned like that. 

Oh wow. 

“No, that’s, uh… that’s not for me,” said Mark, and he suppressed a shiver.

“Fair enough,” said Jack. He came closer, until he was sitting between Mark’s legs, and he reached out one hesitant hand. “Um. Is it okay if I take your pants down?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Mark, and he lifted his ass up, pushing his pajama pants down and around his thighs, then kicking them off. 

“Huh,” said Jack. 

“I know, it’s… different from what you’re used to,” Mark said, and he resisted the urge to cover his cock with his hands. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” said Jack, and he reached out cautiously, wrapping his hand around Mark’s shaft and squeezing it. “It’s… well, it’s my first dick too.”

“I thought you’d made out with some guys?”

“Well, making out doesn’t equal handy,” said Jack, and he jerked Mark’s dick in his fist, squeezing it. 

“Oh!” 

It was the first time someone else had touched Mark’s dick in… he didn’t want to think about how long it had been. And Jack’s hand was bigger than anyone else’s, Jack had hair on his knuckles that brushed against Mark’s stomach, Jack’s breathing was shallow, and when Mark looked down, he saw Jack’s tattoo as well, and it was all… holy fuck. 

Mark gave a full body shiver, his toes curling against the sheets.

“Can I use the thing on you now?” Jack licked his lips. “I’ll blow you another time, I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” Mark said. “Remember? We’re not in a gay porno? You said that yourself, like, fifteen minutes ago.”

Jack snorted. 

“Well, maybe I wanna blow you too,” said Jack. “I just… wanna do the fleshlight thing more.” Jack blushed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’m sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?”

“I dunno. Being fixated on something so weird.”

“I don’t think it’s that weird.”

“Well, okay,” said Jack. “I’m taking your word for it.” He paused. “Uh… this is gonna look weird.”

“What is?””

“I have to, like, lube it up, and finger it open,” said Jack. 

“What, like a real butt?”

“It’s not modeled after a butt,” Jack said, drizzling lube over his fingers and sticking them into the toy. 

The plastic distorted it a bit, but Mark could still make out the movements, through the clear plastic. 

“What is it modeled after?”

Jack shrugged.

“A general happy hole. Like I said, I’m kinda creeped out by the ones that look like they’re part of someone’s body.” He indicated the fleshlight. “Anyway, it’d be creepy fucking clear pussy lips. I don’t wanna fuck a snow queen.”

“Elsa ain’t your type?”

Jack rolled his eyes, and he grabbed Mark’s dick with his lubed up hand. He squeezed it, from root to tip, and it was that much more slippery. 

“Wow,” said Mark. “I always, uh, I always forget… how good lube feels….” 

Jack snorted. 

“That’s like, _the_ most you thing you’ve ever said,” said Jack. Then he cleared his throat. “Can I put it on you?”

“Yeah,’ said Mark. “Although, uh, I’ve never used one before.”

“Have you fucked an actual pussy? Or butt? Or… other orifice?” Jack was all business, grabbing Mark’s dick in one hand, lining it up with the entrance. 

“Well, yeah,” said Mark. 

“Same… basic principle. Do you wanna hold it?” 

“Nah,” said Mark. “I’ll give you a chance to play with my cock, since you let me play with yours.”

“How altruistic of you,” said Jack, and then he was pushing the toy onto Mark’s cock. 

Oh.

_Oh._

Mark moaned, as the whole of the toy enveloped him. 

He glanced at Jack, and Jack’s eyes were rapt, on Mark’s cock and the toy. 

“Holy fuck,” said Mark. “This is… fuck.”

“Did I put enough lube in?” Jack’s voice was nervous. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“If you don’t start moving that,” Mark said, “I’m gonna go crazy.”

“How would I be able to tell?” Jack snickered, but he began to fuck Mark’s cock with the toy.

“I’m gonna ignore you,” Mark mumbled, humping into the fleshlight. 

It was… it was tight, and ridged, but also nubby, in ways that Mark hadn’t expected, and it was squeezing him in all the right ways - one set of nubs was stimulating right under the head of his cock, and it was enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. 

“This… wasn’t what I had in… mind,” Mark mumbled. “When you invited me in.”

One of Jack’s hands was on Mark’s belly, and Mark squeezed it, running the pads of his fingers along the tips of Jack’s. 

“Sorry?” Jack looked up at him, pausing the movement of the fleshlight. 

“No! Don’t be,” said Mark. “Trust… me, I am _quite_ glad it’s turning out this way.” 

“Okay,” said Jack. “Good.”

“... could you… could you, like, pinch my nipple, please?” 

“Yeah? Sure.” Jack leaned in, forcing Mark deeper into the toy, and he gasped, going rigid as Jack’s fingertips pinched his nipple. 

“Oh, fuck, yeah, like that, fuck, Jack, Jack… _Jack_!” 

He came into the toy, and Jack’s eyes were on his dick, which brought his own eyes down to it. 

His cock was purple, swelling up and throbbing visibly. It spat cum into the reserve, and it wa still twitching when Jack pulled the toy off of him. 

“Fuck,” Mark mumbled, a line of slime leading from the mouth of the fleshlight to the tip of his cock.

“Yeah,” Jack said. He made to move closer, then paused. “Are you, uh… do you cuddle?”

Mark patted his chest, then opened his arms up. 

Jack rested the toy on the bedside table, the… hole facing up. Then he cuddled up to Mark, holding on tightly to him. 

“So,” said Jack, as Mark’s heart stopped racing, “come here often?”

Mark snorted, and kissed the top of Jack’s head. 

* * * 

A few days later, Mark walked in on Jack doing the dishes.

It was the middle of the day, and Mark was just taking a break to rest his voice and do a bit of stretching. 

"Hi," said Jack, and he flashed a smile over his shoulder. 

"Hi," said Mark, and he smiled back. 

He was (he hoped) less awkward, now that he was pretty sure that Jack actually liked him, and didn't just put up with him. 

He was still nervous about touching Jack, though - for some reason, it just made him... anxious. Not even for bullshit "no homo" reasons, he was just always afraid he was too... pushy.

Although Jack was almost always cuddling up to Mark, whenever Mark sat in an easily accessible position. He even sat on Mark's lap sometimes, out of the blue. 

"I can feel feel you staring at me," Jack said. "You can come over. It's okay."

"Dunno what you're talking about," Mark said airily, but he did come up behind Jack, wrapping his arms around Jack's middle and nuzzling into Jack's neck.

Jack smelled like his shaving soap, and like himself. 

And of course, Mark was getting an erection.

"Much as I appreciate your dick," Jack said, and his tone was teasing, "I don't have time to get lost in the endless glory that is fucking you."

"Shit, sorry," said Mark, and he made to pull back.

Jack turned around, and he draped his arms over Mark's shoulders, which left wet patches on Mark's shirt, which was... annoying, but livable. 

"Listen man," said Jack, and he was using his Serious Voice and looking Mark straight in the eye, "if the reason you've been so... hands off is because you're afraid I'm gonna get offended that you get a boner... don't worry about it."

"Have I been that hands off?" Mark raised an eyebrow, and okay, so he was kinda blushing. "I don't wanna be... you know, clingy. Hovering."

Jack snorted.

"You keep shooting me longing looks and shoving your hands in your pockets," said Jack. "It's not that hard to discern."

"I don't give you "longing looks," Mark said. 

"You totally do. You keep staring at me with your big brown eyes and then you look like someone kicked your puppy."

"If someone kicked Chica I'd punch them, not shoot them puppy dog eyes."

"... point," said Jack, and he grinned, and kissed Mark on the mouth, a sweet, lingering kiss.

Which did nothing for Mark's erection.

"But seriously," Jack said. "I trust you. You can be handsy with me." He made a vague hand motion. "This is me, giving blanket consent." 

"Blanket consent for what?"

"For, like... affectionate shit. Cuddles and smooching and shit like that." 

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Mark sighed heavily, and tried to relax.

"Alright," he said, and he kissed Jack. "I'm gonna go change my shirt, then go back to recording."

"Why do you need to change your shirt?" Jack let go of Mark, giving him another peck on the mouth.

"Because I've got dish soap on it," said Mark, and he gave Jack a cautious squeeze, then let go of him, making his way back towards his living room.

"I figured you needed the feelings jam more than I needed to wipe my hands off," called Jack.

Mark snorted, and closed the door.

* * * 

Jack got more demanding of affection.

Maybe he caught a whiff of some of Mark's caginess in relation to it, or maybe he was just getting more comfortable, but regardless... he ended up pulling Mark over for hugs, kissing Mark when he passed by, cuddling up to him when they sat next to each other.

He even rested his foot on top of Mark's, when they sat across from each other, which was weird and cute and kind of made Mark want to explode.

It did help with the boner problem, somewhat - when he was getting physical affection, he was less... desperate for it, and he could start to actually enjoy it. 

They were still fucking around - Jack got a few more blowjobs, although Jack professed to still being... nervous about really sucking cock. 

Fair enough. 

People take stuff at their own pace, and it wasn't like Jack was judging him for wanting stuff, which was... pretty excellent.

Which was why he felt confident to wrap his arms around Jack one night, pulling him closer, and nuzzle into the back of Jack's neck, then whisper in Jack's ear.

"I kinda wanna eat your ass."

Jack, who had been lying on his side on the bed, jolted against Mark, then rolled onto his side.

"I'm gonna assume this is about, like, rimjobs, not about cannibalism. Right?"

"Right," Mark said, and he licked his lips. 

He'd done it for a few girlfriends. It had been a mutually enjoyable thing with them. 

So why not with Jack?

Admittedly, Jack was a lot hairier. 

But fuck it. 

"I, uh... while it sounds like a lot of fun, I... how do I put this...." Jack flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know how clean it'd be... there."

"There's a simple solution to that," said Mark. "You could take a shower."

"I don't know what your standards of cleanliness are for 'clean enough for me to eat,'" said Jack. "I mean, I don't wanna end up grossing you out."

"You want me to wash your butt for you?" 

"... sure," said Jack. "Sure. Why not. Let's take a shower."

"Right now?"

"Sure," said Jack, and he sat up, pulling his shirt up and off. 

The hickeys had more or less faded.

Mark would have to put new ones on. 

Oh no. The horror. 

"Sounds good," said Mark, and he sat up as well. 

* * *

"Can I make a weird request?" Jack stood outside the bathtub, fiddling with the water. "After you've checked the... cleanliness of everything, you think maybe you could turn the lights off?"

"Am I that ugly?" Mark stepped under the water, and then he yelped, because fuck that was hot. 

"I like the...." Jack made a vague hand motion. "When it's dark, and it's hot, and it's just you and the other person...." 

"Fair enough," Mark said. "Let me just... wash you off first."

* * * 

Jack made a surprised noise when the cold soap came into contact with his hole, jerking forward, both hands planted on the wall of the shower. 

“What the fuck, man?! I thought you’d use my soap, not your weird fucking… peppermint hippie soap!” 

“Putting strong chemicals against your mucus membranes isn’t safe,” said Mark, scrubbing him carefully with the wash cloth. 

Jack was already turning pink, from the hot water. 

“How is that _not_ a strong chemical?” Jack was shivering, and he looked over his shoulder, the water plastering down his hair. 

“It’s just peppermint soap,” said Mark. “Castile soap, even!” 

He rinsed off Jack’s butt, and squeezed it, pressing closer. One of his fingers traced the rim of Jack’s hole, and he almost moaned at the way Jack shivered. 

“Clean enough to eat off of,” he said, and he was snickering, because his jokes were fucking hilarious. 

“You’re not funny,” Jack said, and then he took a deep breath, as if he was steeling himself. “I wanna blow you.”

“Yeah? You don’t have to.”

“Well, I mean, we’re in the shower,” said Jack. “... I’ve been worried about what it might taste like.” He sounded embarrassed. “Not as an insult to your hygiene or anything, just… like, you know?” 

“Yeah,” said Mark. “I mean, if you really want to, you can?”

“I do,” said Jack, and he turned around, so that they were face to face. “But can we turn the light off first?”

“... do you think my dick is ugly?” Mark hated himself for asking that, but also… well, better to voice insecurities than let them fester, right?

“Oh, god no,” said Jack. He laughed, self conscious. “I just, uh, I find it sexy when I can’t entirely see stuff.”

“Oh, fair,” said Mark. It took a little bit of wrangling to reach over and turn the light out, but then they were standing together in the dark, the hot water raining down on the both of them. 

Jack kissed Mark, pressing Mark into the wall, and his mouth was hot and wet against Mark’s, but it was a _different_ kind of hot and wet, compared to the heat and wetness of the shower, and Mark tried to find the differences, his hands going to Jack’s trace across Jack’s body.

Jack was so… different from him. He was covered in hair, wiry and soft under Mark’s hands, and he was so thin - Mark could feel his ribs. His skin was heating up, and Mark could just bet that Jack was turning even redder.

Mark almost wished the lights were on, but there was an… intensity to the darkness, a urgency that left him moaning against Jack’s mouth, his hands finding Jack’s ass and pulling him closer. 

Jack’s hips were bony under his fingers, the skin slippery, and Jack squirmed when Mark’s hands went up along his sides, then along to Jack’s long, bony arms, interlacing their fingers. 

“Aren’t you the romantic,” Jack mumbled against Mark’s mouth. 

“I don’t know how to respond to that right now,” said Mark, and he was panting, his cock hard and pressed against Jack’s belly. 

Jack’s own cock was pressed against Mark’s thigh. 

“Means I’m doing my job,” said Jack, and he was… he was leaning down, kissing along the line of Mark’s throat, to his shoulder, then lower, one hand on Mark’s hip, the other one going to Mark’s nipple. 

“Oh!” Mark moaned, slumping back against the wall and trying to plant his feet.

Jack’s mouth went to Mark’s nipple, and okay, wow, that was intense, that was… that was _really_ intense - the hot suction of Jack’s mouth, the hot water raining down on Mark’s face, the two different kinds of pressure, the cold tile against his back….

Time went away for a little bit. 

There were… there were sensations - Jack’s hot hands, the prickly hair of Jack’s chest hair, the softness of Jack’s lips…. 

Then Jack was on his knees, and even in the darkness, Mark could make out the whites of his eyes.

“You okay in there?” Mark licked his lips.

“Yeah,” said Jack. He chuckled, and one hand went out to grab Mark’s leg, squeezing it. “I’m sorry. First dick I’ve had in my mouth.” 

“You don’t have to put it in your mouth,” Mark assured him, putting one hand on top of Jack’s head. He took a handful of hair, and some of the moisture was squeezed out, dripping down Mark’s wrist, to add to all the other water that was surrounding him. 

“I want to put it in my mouth,” Jack said. “I’m just nervous.”

“You could try, like… licking it?” Mark wracked his brain, trying to figure out what he’d do in the situation. “Is it because I’m circumcised?”

“A little bit,” said Jack. “And, well… you know, the idea is hot, but the reality is kinda daunting. I’m really into you, as a whole, and, like, I like dick in theory. But in practice it’s kinda… weird.”

“Well, it’s gonna still be here, whenever you want it.”

“What, like, if you’re recording, I can just walk in and drop down in front of you?” 

Mark’s cock twitched, and he snorted. 

“I mean, whenever it’s, uh… when it’s appropriate,” Mark said.

Jack wrapped his hand around Mark’s cock, and he squeezed it cautiously. 

“Mmm….” Mark’s hips rolled, and he moaned, his head lolling out.

“I’m not gonna be fuckin’... intimidated by a penis,” Jack said, and then he leaned forward, and he took the head of Mark’s cock into his mouth. 

Mark made a surprised noise, and he moaned, trying not to move his hips too much. He knew how strong Jack’s gag reflex was.

Jack took a bit more into his mouth, his fist wrapped around the base to keep from gagging, and he sucked like it was a lollipop.

It wasn’t the most… artful blowjob that Mark had ever had, but Jack was enthusiastic - his hands were on Mark’s legs, squeezing his calves, moving to his thighs, sucking and slurping. 

It was _Jack_ blowing him, Jack making his toes curl, Jack making his hips stutter forward, Jack’s hand on his balls, Jack’s hand along his taint, Jack’s hand on his belly. 

“Jack, fuck… Jack….” Mark was so keyed off he was going to go off like a shot. “Jack, I’m… I’m really… I’m gonna… fuck, Jack, please, can I cum on you?”

“You can’t see it,” Jack let go of Mark’s cock, kissing along it, then holding it in his fist and beginning to jerk it. 

“Yeah, but I’ll know,” said Mark. 

“Fair enough,” said Jack, and he licked the tip of Mark’s cock, swirling his tongue along it, then speeding up his fist, no doubt aiming for… some part of his body. Mark couldn’t tell which part. 

He came in a deluge, the hot water raining down on him like the tears of some god, the sweetness and throbbing as his brains went down his spine, through his nerves, exiting his body via his dick. 

He went weak in the knees, leaning harder against the wall, and then Jack was standing up as well, his skinny, hairy chest pressed against Mark’s broad, hairless one. 

Jack’s chest was slimy. 

“Fuck,” said Jack, and he kissed Mark, with a mouth that tasted like pre and like heat and like himself. 

“Wasn’t so scary, was it?” There was cum sticking to Mark’s chest, although the water was going to wash it out soon. 

“I might even try it out of the shower some time, even,” said Jack, and then he laughed. “We should get out. My ass is as clean as it’ll get without, like… red bags, and I’m turning pruney.”

“... red bags?” Mark turned the water off, pulling the shower curtain open. 

He was immediately hit with cold air, which was… well, cold. Very cold. 

His poor penis, still sensitive from his orgasm, twitched. 

“Fuck,” Mark mumbled, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. 

“It’s not that bad,” Jack said. He yelped when Mark turned the light on. 

“It’s not that bad,” Mark said, and Jack gave him a Look.

Mark grinned.

“So, uh… you still wanna eat my ass? I mean, since you just came, if you’re done for now?”

“I mean, it’s minty fresh, isn’t it?” 

“You fucking freak,” Jack said affectionately. 

“I do my best.”

* * * 

Jack lay out on Mark’s bed, belly down. He was on a towel, because he was still damp. He was resting his head on his folded arms, shivering slightly. 

Mark stood back and just… admired him. 

Jack’s toes were curled, and his calves were tense. His spine poked up through his back, knobs like a mountain range, and there was sparse dark hair on his lower back. 

“You okay there?” Jack looked over his shoulder at Mark. 

“What? Oh, yeah.” Mark climbed onto the bed as well, next to Jack. “Yeah, I’m great.”

“So, uh… how are you gonna do this?” Jack squirmed. “I’ll be really honest, I’ve only ever, like, stuck a few fingers up my butt, and maybe a marker or two on a particularly adventurous night.” 

“You stuck _markers_ up your butt?!” Mark looked down at him, eyebrows going up. 

“... they’re a nice shape,” Jack said defensively. “And it’s not like I had any sex toys. I was like, twenty. I was fuckin’ broke!” 

Mark snorted. 

“Do you still, uh….” Mark blushed. “Do you still put stuff in your butt?” 

“My fingers, occasionally,” said Jack. “But I tend to concentrate more on my dick.”

“It’s a pretty good dick,” Mark agreed, and he reached down, running his fingers along Jack’s back, between his shoulder blades. 

Jack gave a full body shudder, his shoulder blades sticking out as he pushed his shoulders back. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jack gasped. 

Mark paused. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Jack said. “God, fuck no. Don’t stop.”

Mark chuckled,aware his voice was going down, and he used the fingertips of both hands to drag across Jack’s back, just enough that he was tickling the nerve endings, and Jack squirmed under him, sobbing into his arms. 

“I didn’t know you were this sensitive,” Mark murmured, and he was… he was straddling Jack’s butt. He was sitting on Jack, leaning down to kiss along Jack’s spine, his fingers ghosting over Jack’s sides.

Jack squealed and squirmed, his hips rocking, nearly unseating Mark. 

Mark sucked a hickey into Jack’s back in revenge, and Jack cried out, but gave a thumbs up. 

Mark kissed down Jack’s back, still running his fingers along Jack’s sides, pausing to leave a hickey here and there, until Jack was a sobbing, writhing mess under him, full on rutting against the bed, holding on to his own hair in great handfuls. 

“How you doing?” Mark spoke against the curve of Jack’s back, right above his ass - he’d migrated down by now, until he was sitting between Jack’s spread legs. 

“G-g-good,” said Jack, and he was shaking. “Just… fucking… intense, fuck.” 

“Is it a good intense?”

“Oh yeah,” said Jack. “Most definitely.”

“Didn’t see you as a Mos Def fan,” Mark said, and then he was moving lower, kissing one of the cheeks of Jack’s ass. 

“I’m gonna fart on you if you make that joke again,” Jack said.

“I’ll bite you if you do that.”

“You’ll still have been farted on.”

“Well, you’ll have been bitten,” said Mark. “I do believe that is what is known as a Mexican standoff.” 

“Sexican standoff,” Jack said, and he was snickering.

“You’re such a dork,” said Mark, and he pressed his face forward, nuzzling at Jack’s thumb. “Is it okay if I, uh… start?”

“Sure,” said Jack. “I mean, uh… I’m as ready as I’ll ever be?” 

“Right,” said Mark, and he readjusted himself, until he was lying flat on his belly, his feet dangling over the edge of the bed.

He held Jack’s ass open with both hands, and he just… looked. 

This was probably a piece of Jack’s anatomy that hadn’t been seen by many.

“I feel like I’m getting an inspection,” Jack grumbled.

Mark snorted in amusement, and Jack jerked forward, making a surprised noise.

“You alright?” 

“I, uh… I don’t exactly get much fresh air on my asshole,” Jack said.

“You should fix that,” Mark said casually. “Good for the skin.”

“Good for the… what?” 

Mark ignored him, pressing his whole face in. 

He licked him, tracing the rim of Jack’s hole with his tongue, and Jack moaned, his hips rocking forward, grinding into the bed. 

“Fuck, Mark, what the fuck… how does… oh!”

Mark snickered, and he pulled away, kissing on of the cheeks of Jack’s ass, then sitting up. “Get on your knees.”

“Mm?”

“On your knees. It’s easier that way.”

“My knees are killing me,” Jack complained, but he got up on his knees anyway, his face still pressed into the sheets. 

“I didn’t tell you to give me a blowjob in the goddamn shower,” Mark said, and yes, this was much better. He nudged Jack’s legs a little further apart, then pressed his face back in, holding on to Jack’s ass and sliding his tongue in. 

One of his hands moved between Jack’s legs, and he squeezed Jack’s balls, gently, rolling them in his hand, stroking his fingers along Jack’s taint, then squeezing his cock. 

“Oh fuck, oh, _fuck_ ,” Jack moaned, and he was humping back against Mark, he was hitting the bed as Mark tongued him open, as Mark kept sucking, kept licking, jerking him off harder, Jack’s cock slippery with pre in his hand, his foreskin drawn back on its own. 

Jack came against Mark’s face, came across Mark’s hand, and then his knees gave out, and he landed belly down in the puddle of cum.

“That’s fuckin’ disgusting,” said Jack. 

“What, me licking your ass?” Mark wiped his drool covered chin off, and lay down next to Jack. 

“I don’t know if it’s gross or not,” said Jack. “I mean, if that’s gross.” He laughed, and rolled onto his back, looking over at Mark and grinning like a fool. 

“How about a kiss?” Mark leaned in.

“Brush your teeth first,” said Jack, putting a hand on Mark’s chest.

“Aw, Jack, you wound me.” 

Jack snickered. Then his expression softened. 

“That was… amazing,” he said. “It was… I mean, I dunno what I expected. But I liked it.”

“Would you wanna do it again some time?” Mark waggled his eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” said Jack, and he cupped Mark’s cheek, then kissed Mark’s hand. 

Mark blushed - Jack had made it serious.

“I’m glad,” said Mark. “I enjoyed it a lot. I mean, giving it to you.”

“Was it different from doing it to a girl?”

“Yeah,” said Mark. “Drier. And hairier.” 

“Gee, thanks,” said Jack. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” said Mark. “You’re all… manly and shit.”

Jack snorted. and he flexed. 

“I am pretty macho, aren’t I, with my chicken legs.”

Mark snickered, then groaned, standing up. He had half a boner, and a dire need to brush his teeth. 

“I’ll be… right back,” he told Jack. 

* * * 

Jack had cleaned his belly off, and was lying on his side, still naked. He opened his arms up for Mark. 

Mark made to roll over and wrap his arms around Jack, but Jack clung on stubbornly. 

“You’re always holding me,” he told Mark. “Let me hold you for once.”

“I’m not… always doing that,” said Mark, but he relaxed against Jack, Jack’s chest hair scratchy against his back, Jack’s chin scratchy against his shoulder. 

Jack was breathing against his neck, and Mark could feel the rise and fall of Jack’s chest. 

Mark’s eyes drifted shut, and his last thought, as he began to enter the fugue state that comes before sleep, was how nice it was, that Jack had come to live here. 

* * * 

Mark was on the couch, playing a game, some days later.

Jack flopped next to him, so that Mark had Chica sitting on his foot and Jack leaning against him. 

Mark realized, with some surprise, that he no longer had the desperate, raging joy at the warmth of another human being.

Huh. 

“You lost all that skin hunger,” said Jack, wrapping an arm around Mark’s middle.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Mark gave him an odd look. “You make me sound like some kind of… skin vampire.”

“Skin hunger. Like… when you’re lonely, and you want people to touch you.”

Mark laughed nervously. 

“Was I that obvious?”

“A little bit,” said Jack, and he kissed Mark on the cheek, intentionally sloppy and loud. “But don’t worry. I’ll feed you ‘til you’re stuffed.”

“You’ll feed my skin.”

“I’ll feed your skin.”

“You fuckin’ weirdo.”

“And you know it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic? Check out my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com! I take requests, & write ficlets as well!


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